Author: basilisk

As of this writing, the Ally Party’s latest expedition is three million mana over budget and 53 turns behind schedule. Although the quest committee blames unforeseen difficulties and inclement weather, an ongoing investigation has uncovered the wasteful and corrupt inclusion of an alarmingly large number of Ally Party members and their associates on the quest payroll.

Initially, the committee countered this accusation by pointing out that the roster was not all fellow Allies. They said the mission was in fact incredibly diverse, featuring among others a mercenary, a rebel, a ninja, a sliver, and a kami. On further inspection though, these were all found to be pseudopods of one colossal shapeshifter.

The first irregularity that watchdogs noticed was the now-iconic inclusion of a librarian on this dangerous, combat-driven wilderness mission. Sadly, several other unqualified members have been uncovered since. Their number includes holy men of several irreconcilable faiths, a four-piece band, and two rogues convicted of a combined 7 counts of armed robbery. The most shameless though is undoubtedly that Chancellor Krynal approved an exuberant 40-mana retainer for “Mr McWhiskers” who we now know is not even a person, but rather a house cat for whom he set up a fake ID and bank account.

The proposed motivation for these alleged acts of graft is a plethora of kickbacks. Evidence points to committee members having received hundreds of life, cards, and mana and over 1200 +1/+1 counters in return for these appointments.

Even in the seemingly unlikely event that their names are cleared, outraged land-taxpayers are questioning whether these ruins were worth exploring in the first place. Many have rallied around opposing pundit Rava Marn’s observation that “It’s not as though we found anything great with the first three expeditions we sent there.”

We sent a correspondent to get the Party’s side of the story, but while on that assignment, he suffered a fatal camera explosion. The case’s medical examiner notes that the blast caused him an amount of damage suspiciously similar to the number of allies he was about to interview.

I’ve held my tongue this long because I didn’t want to jeopardize my position here at the Encyclopedia Dominaria, but I cannot look the other way any longer. Someone has to stand up and say what we’re all thinking: our editor is abusing his power to spread his bigotry. People count on our work for objective information; they rely on us to accurately report on how tough a cerodon is, and how much mana and of which types it takes to issue a cryptic command. That said, at first I welcomed the introduction of subjective “flavor” pieces in its entries. Our editor Vorlus promised they would be excerpts of poetry, local sayings, and pithy quotes that would humanize our otherwise-technical list of facts and figures.

But with each edition and supplement it becomes more clear that they are just an excuse for him to insert his anti-goblin bias into the work. It was ambiguous at first; when he called the Mercadian Guild “Home to the multiverse’s smartest goblins (and fastest quadriplegics)“ I took no notice. When he said of Toggo’s war club “Crude but ineffective, much like its owner,” I wrote it off as a harmless joke, or at worst an insult to one man. But after he said of the Zendikari tribes, “They’d lose track of their own mouths if their breath didn’t smell so foul,” I knew I could not let him continue.

My friends, we must collectively stand up against this policy. Not only because it is the right thing to do, but for the future of ourselves and our beloved publication. For if a goblin takes offense at these comments, we could be liable for a large settlement. Granted, the chances of a goblin reading anything are pretty low because… well… let’s just say that their language has over 70 words for illiteracy.

     — Koron the Scribe